


Masquerade ball

by EmmaSpencer



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anthea forges papers, Anthea has a cold, Anthea helps, Being different, Dancing, Distance, Edwardian era, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fear of Discovery, Greg still loves him, Greg takes an interest in him/her, I Do, Letters, Loneliness, M/M, Marriage, Mycroft dresses up as a lady, Mycroft rather live in his fantasy, Secret Identity, The truth is out, Wedding, Wedding Fluff, Well Groomed, because she likes Mycroft, because why not, courting, his majesty's secretservice, longing for love, lying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 05:54:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18277136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaSpencer/pseuds/EmmaSpencer
Summary: Anthea is sick and to avoide any trouble Mycroft agrees to take over her place.Which means he needs to dress up, as a lady, go to the ball, collect gossip and be done with it. Nothing can go wrong.Till the dashing Gregory Lestrade asks him to dance, Mycroft knew from that second that he was lost forever.To his delight his feelings are reciprocated. They keep exchanging letters, meeting up, Mycroft not revealing his true self until...





	Masquerade ball

“I deally appreciate it Mycoft…” Anthea mumbled, nose stuffed, coughing terribly.  
“If you dare to utter a word to anyone about this.” his eyes narrowed.  
“Ot dat stupid.”  
“You would end up in more trouble than me.”  
“I dnow.” she fall back to bed looking at him miserably.  
“Would you help?” Mycroft sighed finally giving up putting on the dress on his own.  
“Saaaaallly!” she yelled.  
“I don’t want anyone to see me like this.” he hid behind the folding screen.  
“Dey will. You are going do a ball.”  
“I hate you so much.” he hissed bowing his head.  
“Dank you.”  
“What you need darling?” she came in. Anthea just pointed at Mycroft. “Oh my words…you do look…pretty.”  
“Please don’t make it worse.” he sighed. “Help?”  
“How you managed to get in it on your own?” she was genuinely surprised that he figured all the layers out.  
“It is part of my work to know everything.” he mumbled turning really red.  
“Sure.” she pulled on the strings of the corset. “That is why your makeup on point, the dress only needs a little adjusting…”  
“Miss. Donovan!” he said warningly.  
“All right. Tighter?”  
“Please.” Mycroft grabbed the bed post.  
“’s enough.” Anthea muttered. “You don’t want do pass out.”  
“But…”  
“Shhh, you have your curves.” she rolled her eyes.  
The last thing remained was the wig, Mycroft already styled the hair, so he put it on checking himself out in the mirror.  
“You look exquisite.”  
“Thank you Miss. Donovan.” he whispered.  
“Even the voice is perfect.”  
“You should go, it is nod fashionable do be late.”  
“I’m never late. Stay in bed Anthea.” Mycroft stepped closer to her.  
“Be safe.” she squeezed his hand. “It’s simple, go, observe and write a report.”  
“Understood Ma’am.”  
“Mask?”  
“Here.”  
“Go my dear sister, have fun Sally.”  
“Bye love.” she kissed her forehead.  
“I don’t like this.” Mycroft mumbled.  
“Do you want to be the middle of attention? Young girl turning up on her own.”  
“But I’m…”  
“Better a young man dressed as a young woman!  
“But a chaperon?”  
“Are you really going to throw a tantrum?”  
“Apologies.” he took a deep breath before leaving the house.  
“Miss.” he got helped to the carriage. Mycroft said nothing, arranging his dress, wrapping the coat more tightly around himself. True it was not his first time in a dress, his work required things he would never imagine before, not all of them against his will in truth.  
Mycroft met Anthea through work, they worked together for years, saving each other several times, making their friendship stronger and stronger. Now she was the only person Mycroft would trust, unconditionally. When she sent for him and asked him to cover for her, he said yes immediately. It wasn’t a lot. Go, mingle, talk and try to collect some gossip, or some meaningful information. Which he doubted, but a promise is a promise.

“May I ask for this dance?” Mycroft got startled. He turned feeling his cheeks and ears burning immediately the young man was perfection; warm shining brown eyes, brown hair, sticking everywhere, smile that took him off his feet. Mycroft was grateful that the mask covered his face, so his extremely pale skin wouldn’t betray him.  
“Of course.” he smiled and took the offered hand, his hand was callous, holding his firmly, sending tingling sensation up Mycroft’s arm. Then he put his other hand at his back.  
‘God help me.’ he smiled at him, reminding himself that he wasn’t supposed to lead.  
“You dance really well.” he started the conversation.  
“Thank you, you haven’t stepped on my foot yet…so I’m pleased.” he quickly realised what he said. ‘Idiot.’  
“Natural talent.” Mycroft snorted. “Yes?”  
“Nothing.” he smiled. “My apologies.”  
“No, no.” Mycroft scolded himself, this is wasn’t the way he should be behaving. “Don’t be. I’m not the best dancer in my family. My brother he is the talent…in everything. He always stole the ladies from under my nose.”  
“Never had the luck of meeting him.”  
“He already settled down, away from London.”  
“Not yourself.”  
“No, work makes it hard to get out and socialise. Although I could not avoid it this time, my uncle is the one hosting.”  
“There is a rather illustrious crowd gathered.”  
“Yes, he likes to show off his wide acquaintances.”  
“With a masquerade ball?”  
“Everyone knows who is who. Except you Miss…an enigma in a burgundy dress.” Mycroft chuckled avoiding his eyes. “My name is Greg Lestrade.”  
“I figured.” he glanced up.  
“What may I call you?”  
“Well DS Lestrade, anonymity is the point of this ball.”  
“Until midnight.”  
“What happens then?”  
“Off with the masks.” Mycroft took a deep breath, that wasn’t part of the deal. Nor him staying for longer than necessary, but Greg asked him to dance and he would dance with him till he passed out.  
“Don’t you have other obligations?”  
“Am I boring you?”  
“No, just don’t wish to keep you from your responsibilities.”  
“I don’t really have any other things to attend to. Yourself? I can see your chaperon is keeping her eyes on us.”  
“She is my…cousin.” he sighed.  
“See that man?” he pointed at an older gentleman. “He loves dancing and entertaining ladies with his war stories.”  
“What are you proposing?” he smiled.  
“Just a little…temporary matchmaking.” he smiled at him.  
‘Anything you want of me, anything.’ Mycroft stared to his eyes, not wanting the night to end; ever.  
“May I have the next dance.” they got startled; Mycroft swallowed hard, his boss was standing next to them.  
“Of course Lord Hill.” Greg bowed, glancing at Mycroft apologetically.  
“Sir.” Mycroft curtsied trying not to look him in the eyes.  
“Lovely lady like you shouldn’t be kept up by one man.”  
“Well thank you…” Mycroft mumbled trying to close out his blabbing, nodding and smiling when it was needed. He stopped when realisation hit him.  
“Miss?”  
“My apologies, I just need a little air.” he pressed one hand to his stomach. “I’m terribly sorry.” Mycroft left him on the dance floor.  
“Did he ask?” Greg was on the terrace smoking.  
“No.” he wrapped his arms around himself.  
“Old dog.” he chuckled. “Always trying to find a lady…a young lady.”  
“Widowed?” Mycroft asked to keep up the conversation.  
“Yes, can’t stand being alone poor old man…I feel sorry for him, but also…maybe he is a good catch for someone. Title, wealth, position.”  
“Not for me, thank you.”  
“What would your mother say if…”  
“I lost my parents.”  
“I’m terribly sorry to hear that.” he seemed genuinely sorry.  
“I only have my aunt, a sister and my cousin.” Greg took off his jacket and wrapped it around Mycroft when he started to tremble.  
“Thank you.” the jacket was still warm and smelled like Greg, making Mycroft even more lightheaded.  
“I didn’t mean to upset you even more.”  
“Even more?”  
“I can see he upset you…and I brought up your loss…Anything I can do to help?”  
“No, it is really nothing.” ‘Just the damned dress being too tight.’ he tried to smile at him. ‘Why is Anthea always right?’  
“Here you are darling!” Sally came out.  
“She…” Greg started but Sally cut him off.  
“I can take care of her, thank you.” she steered him away from Greg. “Too tight?” she chuckled.  
“Not a word.” Mycroft whispered.  
“Work is done?”  
“Yes.” he reached back to loosen the dress.  
“Not here.” Sally hit his hand. “I get our carriage and coats.” Mycroft leaned against a column waiting for her.  
“Maybe taking off the mask would help.”  
“Lestrade.” he grunted eyes closed. “What would be the connection between my respiratory system and my face?” Greg took a step back. “My apologies, I feel unwell.” Mycroft quickly added.  
“I can tell. Anything I can assist you with?”  
“No, but I appreciate the offer.”  
“I didn’t have the chance to ask, but would you consider meeting me again?”  
“I…I don’t think I should…”  
“Sorry, my bad. A lady like you is obviously already taken.”  
“No, no…I’m not. Just, this is quite sudden.”  
“Sorry, I just had to say it. I never met anyone who would bring it out of me.” he smiled at him. “I would be really happy if you’d consider meeting me again.”  
“I consider it.”  
“Thank you.” Sally came back scanning Greg with narrowed eyes. She took the jacket off Mycroft.  
“Your jacket Mr…”  
“Lestrade Ma’am. Do you have you carriage ready?”  
“Yes, we are fine, thank you. Good evening.” Greg bowed taking his jacket from her. “Let’s go Mycroft.” she took his arm.  
“Mycroft.” Greg whispered. “Even her name is special.” Mycroft closed his eyes, waiting till they were seated.  
“You had to tell him my name!” he almost yelled.  
“Hush now.” Sally loosened the corset. Mycroft took deep breaths.  
“Thank you.” he sighed with relief. “Still, you told him my name!”  
“And?”  
“AND!” she just shrugged. Mycroft rubbed his eyes messing up his makeup.  
“What will you sister say, me taking home like this.” she chided him. Mycroft decided to gave up talking, not that it would change a thing.

 

“And where are you going?” Anthea took Mycroft’s arm. “And why in my dress? Why on your own?”  
“I’m…he expects a woman…I…and uncle’s dresses are outdated.” he added really quietly.  
“How he found you?”  
“Through Sally.”  
“How?”  
“Wrote a letter.”  
“She gave you the letter?”  
“No, I…acquired it before she seen it.”  
“And?”  
“Been exchanging letters for the past months, I wasn’t ready to meet him, work was much…so...”  
“Why?”  
“Because he is interesting, I wish to get to know him.”  
“Mycroft.” she rolled his eyes. “He and you…there is no way this will work. All an act, he is most likely looking for a wife, don’t waste his time.”  
“Just a little bit, he makes me feel so well, he is different, he is…”  
“Handsome, yes. Think with your brain not your penis. No one will save you, no one Mycroft.”  
“It won’t be necessary.”  
“Turn and walk away.”  
“Just this one, one more day.”  
“It’s a fantasy.”  
“I know.” he smiled sadly. “It makes me really happy.”  
“This will only end in pain, or worse. What if he finds out?”  
“But he is so…kind and…different. He is different Anthea…” he looked at her pleadingly. He was ready to do or say anything just to meet him one more time.  
“You are lying to yourself Mycroft and to him too.”  
“This once.” he whispered. “Please.”  
“Like I can do anything to stop you.” she sighed. “Stubborn idiot.” she added.  
“Thank you.”  
“I’m watching you.”  
“I appreciate it.”  
“But no crying afterwards.”  
“Not in front of you, promise. He is there.” he stopped with a deep sigh.  
“Him? Mycroft…do you know who he is?”  
“Yes.”  
“Yard.”  
“I know.”  
“Mycroft…” he looked at her pleadingly. “I’m really worried.”  
“No need.” he smiled.  
“Good day ladies.” he walked up to them. “My apologies but couldn’t stay away.”  
“Mr?”  
“Lestrade, Greg Lestrade.” he bowed slightly.  
“Miss. Winter.” she nodded. Greg smiled.  
“Shall we walk? Weather is splendid today…”  
“My sister.” Mycroft whispered to explain.  
“She doesn’t like me.” Greg whispered back when there was a bit of distance between them.  
“Why you say that?” Mycroft glanced back at Anthea, who sent back a murderous look.  
“I can tell.”  
“She doesn’t know you jet.”  
“Haven’t told her? The letters?”  
“No.”  
“Oh…too big of a social difference? Poor policeman and…”  
“I don’t mind. No one to be enraged by my choice.”  
“Aunt?”  
“Aunt Giselle would be happy to get me married off, doesn’t matter to whom. She thinks I’m…problematic, talk too much, have opinions, plans…which is not what I should have.”  
“I don’t mind.”  
“You say that now…”  
“No, I really don’t mind. What about you sister?”  
“Same with her.” Anthea cleared her throat behind them, Greg took a step to the side, just realising that he drifted closer to Mycroft.  
“Doesn’t seem like.” he chuckled nervously.  
“Just…play by the rules, come over for tea to meet her and it will get better. If you are willing of course.”  
“Anything.” he smiled. “I will request and audience with her…before you go home.”  
“That is a splendid idea.” Mycroft smiled.  
“How was your visit?”  
“Hmmm, the country is magnificent this time of the year…my aunt annoying as always.” he whispered. “I mentioned you but she tried to set me up with the vicar never the less.”  
“So she doesn’t approve of me.”  
“Once she learned who your uncle is, she was delighted.”  
“My uncle…” he sighed. “I’m not him…other than a shared name we barely haves any connection.”  
“I, on the other hand only care for you.” he smiled at Greg.  
“I…think you are different, in a good way…and I wish to get to know you better, before the final decision.”  
“Which being?”  
“Marriage of course.”  
“Oh…”  
“If everyone agrees…you and our families.”  
“Of course…families.” he mumbled.  
“Look…” Greg pointed at the pavilion where a quartet was playing. “I love music…”  
It was really hard for Mycroft not to forget about himself around Lestrade, he had to keep up the pretence, also getting to know him better. And there was a lot to notice about him, Greg was more clever than anyone Mycroft encountered before, he had rather different views of life and the world. Mycroft mused how he could stay in position with views so unlike in the era, but most likely Greg was as good in deceiving than him. But if he was good in it, then how much of his current behaviour was true. By the end of the afternoon Mycroft’s head was hurting from his swirling thoughts.

 

Mycroft smiled at Greg as he approached the table. Anthea had other engagements so no one accompanied him this time. He was surprised how many disapproving looks that draw. But he took a deep breath and only concentrated on the man he wanted. But looking at Greg, something wasn’t right. Greg didn’t smile back, the air felt cold and filled with suspense. “Gregory.” Mycroft kept smiling. “May I sit?” he asked, his hand on the chair.  
“I got a letter today.”  
“I see, family matter?” Greg snorted and stood up.  
“We must talk. Now!”  
“Of course. Where?”  
“I have the carriage here.”  
“I would like to know where you are taking me.” Mycroft followed him out of the restaurant never the less. He could play the damsel in distress, but he rather explain and deal with the consequences. Secretly hoping that this wasn’t the worst case scenario.  
“I want answers too.” his eyes pierced through him.  
Mycroft sat in silence in the carriage, staring at his hands. He knew where they were headed. ‘This is it…everything over because I was stupid enough to care for someone. Idiot me. Anthea was right, shouldn’t let my heart take over.’ he got out and followed Greg to the office.  
“Sit.” Greg pointed at the chair, door closed, window open letting in the evening noises preventing anyone from listening in. “I want an explanation.”  
“I…don’t know what needs to be explained?” Mycroft went with lying; again.  
“This.” he threw the letter at him. Mycroft picked it up.  
“I’m not engaged to anyone! Told you before…”  
“Mycroft, Mycroft, Mycroft...” he rubbed his eyes. “There are not a lot named like that.”  
“No, special as you said.” he kept smiling.  
“Mycroft Holmes, son of Sieger and Violet Holmes. Who are well and alive.”  
“I’m not…”  
“It is a men’s name. You are a man!”  
“Do I look like one?” Greg pulled the wig off his head.  
“Explain!”  
“I…” he sighed bowing his head.  
“EXPLAIN!” Greg yelled.  
“I love you.” Mycroft chuckled manically, clutching his hands. “There is nothing else to say. I found you interesting, charming, you are different than anyone else I’ve known before. We can talk so easily, about matters I haven’t been able to talk with anyone before…sharing my feelings my secrets with you…” he whispered.  
“Why dress up in the first place?” he crossed his arms, leaning against the desk.  
“It was a masquerade ball.”  
“Why dress up?”  
“Because my colleague was sick and I took over…we didn’t want anyone knowing of it.”  
“What kind of colleague would dress up as a lady?”  
“You met her, Anthea. Yes, she is really Miss Winter.”  
“What kind of job is that?”  
“His majesty’s secret service.” he whispered, choosing to tell the whole truth. “I was to observe, collect information and gossips. Then I met you…I never met anyone like you. Funny, caring, warm, I could…I felt like myself when I was with you. Not caring about the time or the trouble I might get into…my worries swept away by your smile…I know what I did is unforgivable, that it is…” he sighed. “Please let me leave. It will not happen again, you won’t see me ever again…I do anything for you, I help out with cases, anything...I’m very well positioned in the service, I can arrange anything for you.”  
“I can’t.” Mycroft’s shoulders dropped.  
“I understand.” he whispered.  
“I can’t because I love you too.” Mycroft’s head shot up. Greg looked at him quite miserably. “Leave now!” he rubbed his eyes.  
“We should…”  
“LEAVE!” he kept his eyes covered.  
“Of course.” Mycroft put the wig back on and left the office hurriedly. He was relieved to leave, but Greg loved him too. He hailed a cab and went to Anthea’s place. The house was dark, but Mycroft went in never the less.  
He was sitting in the dark, drinking, waiting for her to come home.  
“I trusted you, only you…without question.” he mumbled when she stepped to the sitting room.  
“Mycroft?” she lit the lamps.  
“I trusted you.” his tears were flowing.  
“It had to be done…you would never end it Mycroft. We both know that.”  
“I…”  
“You are drunk, yes.” she took the glass away from him.  
“Don’t tell me what I feel!” he spit. Anthea grabbed his arm and easily pulled him up.  
“Sally, cold water.”  
“On it.” she dragged Mycroft out to the garden.  
“He took me to the Yard, I told him everything, everything…” he stopped talking when poured down with the cold water.  
“Just to wake you.” she grabbed him and pulled him back to the kitchen, getting the wet dress off him.  
“He said he loves me too…then sent me away.”  
“What?” she stopped. Mycroft’s make up was flowing down his face, the wig ruined, standing there in a dripping undergarment.  
“He loves me, that is why he let me leave.” Mycroft wiped his face. “He said it.”  
“Oh dear.” Anthea wrapped her arms around him when Mycroft started to lean forward. “Got you Mycroft, I’ve got you.” she patted his back.  
“He let me go.”  
“Be grateful and never cross his way.” she pulled him towards the stairs. “Now you go to bed.”  
“I want to be in his bed.”  
“Mycroft.” Anthea grunted. “Just shut up before I murder you.” Mycroft nodded not talking till he was seated on the bed.  
“I managed to fool him. He thought I was a lady.”  
“Yes.” she started to get him undressed.  
“I’m good in lying…disguise…and making everything worse.”  
“You have a natural talent for that.” she smiled softly.  
“I wish it was different with him…wish I was normal.”  
“You are, nothing wrong with you.” Mycroft huffed hiding under the covers. “Promise me you will not look for him.”  
“I promise.” he whispered before drifting off.  
“Which you’d not keep.” she sighed.  
“This is bad.” Sally whispered from the door.  
“I know Sally.”  
“What now?”  
“He must leave…there has to be an assignment that he can take. Distance will serve him well.”  
“Not worried that he…I don’t know, makes some stupid mistake in his despair.”  
“I go with him, to keep an eye on him.”  
“Must you?” she took her hand.  
“If they say so. Who knows.”  
“I’m still worried.”  
“Let’s head off to bed now.”

 

“DS Lestrade.” Anthea nodded when he turned up at her doorstep.  
“Miss Winter. I’m sorry but I didn’t know who else to turn to.”  
“What is it you want?” she crossed her arms.  
“Mycroft.”  
“I don’t know who are you talking about.” she tried to close the door  
“Mycroft…please.”  
“Step inside.”  
“Thank you.”  
“Why?”  
“Because I can’t find hatred in my heart. I had time to think and I…I really miss him.” he whispered. “I do love him, it doesn’t matter that we have to hide it, that we can’t show it…I want to be with Mycroft.”  
“What do you want from him?”  
“I want to continue seeing him.”  
“I warn you that we are not alone, and I work for the service as well.”  
“Understand, this is not a trick Miss. Promise…not a trick, just someone desperately in love.”  
“What you are expecting from me?”  
“To give him this letter.” he took an envelope out of his pocket.  
“I consider it.” she took it.  
“I appreciate it.” he bowed.  
“Good day.”  
“Good day Miss.”

 

“Good evening Miss.” Greg was back at Anthea’s door, like every evening before.  
“Lestrade, people might think that you are courting.” she raised an eyebrow.  
“Is he…may I talk to him?” she had to tell him, where Mycroft was after two weeks.  
“Come.” she rolled her eyes. “Leave your shoes too, I just cleaned.” she headed up the stairs. “Are you coming Lestrade?”  
“Yes Miss.” he hurried after her.  
“Only a few minutes, he needs rest.”  
“Is he all right?”  
“He was let out of the hospital…so obviously he is doing better.” she opened a door. “Behave you two!” she left them.  
“Gregory.” Mycroft was in bed, looking pale, eyes fallen in, he tried to sit up but couldn’t manage.  
“Mycroft.” he smiled and sat to the chair.  
“Sorry for not receiving you sooner, but I was indisposed.”  
“It is understandable, are you feeling better now?”  
“I will heal. Anthea was kind enough to take me in till I can take care of myself.”  
“I can help too.”  
“I appreciate it.”  
“You had a chance to read my letter?”  
“Not yet…maybe you could read it to me.” Greg spotted it on the nightstand.  
“Might as well.” he picked it up, to his surprise it was unopened.  
“Anthea’s specialty is forgery, do not read anything to a closed envelope.”  
“Thank you for the warning. What is yours?”  
“Solving problems no one else is able to.”  
“And getting yourself into trouble?” he tried to hide a smile.  
“Yes…it happens a lot actually, but don’t tell it Anthea that I admitted it.”  
“Not going to. I read it then.” Greg took a deep breath. “Dear Mycroft.”  
“Really?”  
“Yes. I wrote that.” he looked at him.  
“Please continue.” he smiled at him.  
“I sat down to write this two hours ago; wrote one tore it up, and again. I wanted to tell you how much I hate you for lying to me, for hiding it, for leading me by my nose for months but I can’t find it in my heart to hate you. You deceived me, pretended, lied…”  
“I know.” he whispered. “But you were expecting a lady.” Greg tore up the letter.  
“I was, but I got you.”  
“I’m a man.”  
“I know…I…might have a little experience in it. The other reason why I didn’t arrest you?”  
“I’m grateful for that.”  
“Sorry that I yelled at you…I just…needed time to process; to think. I thought I finally found a lady who I would grow old with, start a family…finally I would be normal, just like everyone else. But I rather be happy than normal.”  
“You made me feel like no one else before.” he whispered. “I was arguing with Anthea a lot, she tried to make me stop seeing you but…even if it was a fantasy, I wished to keep it up…just a bit. To feel loved, happy…”  
“I do love you.” Greg took his hand.  
“Me too.” he whispered.  
“I should go now, you seem exhausted.” he got up.  
“No!” he grabbed his hand. “Please…stay, a little bit more.” Greg sat to the bed not letting go of Mycroft’s hand. “What are we going to do now?” he whispered looking up at him.  
“Nothing.”  
“Nothing?” Mycroft tried to hide his disappointment.  
“Nothing will change. We will meet, talk and see how it goes.” he blushed, Mycroft’s eyes lit up. “We can both use this time to think about what we want, how would we manage, how would we…keep our relationship hidden...”  
“I like the way you are thinking Gregory.” he whispered.  
“I really should let you rest now, before Anthea murders me.”  
“Thank you for visiting.”  
“Sure…” Greg smiled gently putting the sleeping Mycroft’s hand down.  
“If you break his heart, you’ll regret that you got born.” Anthea was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs.  
“Yes Miss.”  
“Why are you smiling?”  
“I…really like him.” he blushed.  
“Him?”  
“Yes, him. I know what I’m getting myself into.”  
“We’ll see.”  
“Why you hate me so much?”  
“I don’t trust you, simple as that.”  
“That I can understand. Considering your situation…”  
“My situation?” she raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you mean my work.”  
“And Miss Donovan.” Greg soon found himself pressed against the wall.  
“If you say one more word…” she hissed. Greg nodded in silence. “Leave, you are not welcome here.”  
“But he…”  
“He will contact you once well enough. Off you go.”  
“Yes Miss.” he collected his shoes and left without putting them on.

 

“Today is possible.” Anthea sighed, trying to convince Mycroft to get dressed.  
“Why?” Mycroft looked at the dress with confusion. “Anthea…”  
“Want me to dress you?”  
“Why I need this dress? It is…”  
“It wasn’t cheap, yes.”  
“It is gorgeous.” Mycroft touched the fabric. “It looks like a...What have you done Anthea?” he turned to her. She waved a paper in front of his nose.  
“We both know what is coming Mycroft. I just wanted to make your wish come true before everything turns upside down.” Mycroft was loss for words.  
“I’m ready.” Greg knocked on the door.  
“We are not, tell them to wait.”  
“Sure, just don’t let my wife run off.”  
“Not going to happen.” Mycroft yelled out.  
“Dressing up?” Anthea hold it up.  
“Yes.” he whispered blinking rapidly.  
“Please don’t cry, you shouldn’t cry yours eyes out on your wedding day. Do you want this?” Mycroft nodded. “Good, then stop crying and start dressing.” Mycroft buried his face to his hands. “We do need to hurry.”  
“You are always late…”  
“Hey!” Mycroft wiped down his tears.  
“All right.” he sighed. “Let’s get married.” Anthea helped the dress on him, did his makeup and hair.  
“You look really pretty sister mine.” she brushed a lock out of his face.  
“I don’t know how am I going to thank you this.” he whispered.  
“No need, my wedding gift.”  
“You know we will burn in hell for this.” she shrugged. Mycroft took her hand as she opened the door. “Let’s get you married off Miss. Holmes.” Mycroft chuckled, not being able to stop with it.  
“Shhhh, not how a lady should behave.”  
“Apologies.” he took deep breaths. “I don’t know how I’m going to get through this without laughing.”  
“You must.” Greg was waiting for them in front of the cottage.  
“Miss Holmes.” he bowed.  
“DS Lestrade.” he curtsied.  
“Ready?” he took his hand  
“As I ever be.”


End file.
